blog first published on August 12, 2016

It is a Sunday morning and I have no motivation to rise. It is well after 8:30 a.m. and I'm lying in bed. My body is tired from yesterday's travel and from multiple colitis attacks. It is cool here in my bed and the sheets feel comforting. The morning offers a blessing - unsung, undeclared, apart from community. And yet I miss community and the connection that it offers.

Cache creek is a few stores and a campground on the TransCanada highway. I'm sure that there is a church, somewhere. The energy and courage to search out a strange community of worship is gone at this point. So I will stay in the camper with sleeping family nearby.

The campground outside is a flurry of activity. Campers wake up early. At this point in the day, breakfasts are done, dishes are being cleaned. Outside my window I hear the retired man and his wife from Washington pack up their water hose; they are getting ready to get back on the highway. The 'neighbor' on the other side has long since departed. Soon, we will be left in a vacant lot of trees, water spickets, and empty fire pits. Eventually, we too will leave and head back on the road.

I try to focus and pray. Close my eyes and concentrate on my breathing. I hear the crumbling and 'popping' of gravel made by the tires of large vehicles. Motor homes and trailers pulled by big pickups are leaving all around. People are on the move this Sunday morning. They are traveling east and west towards destinations unknown and in the direction of home.

I begin to wonder about Sunday morning. For me, worship on Sunday is assumed. Apart from the fact that it is my calling to preach and preside, worship has become our family pattern. On Sunday we go to church. We go to sing and praise. We go to hear God's Word and share in the Eucharist. We go to connect with others who have become like family.

In the deserts of Canada, where the rivers have left the coastal mountains and now carve deep furrows in canyons, I find myself disconnected. I yearn for the pattern of worship to return. I look forward to getting up and heading out on the road on the next leg of the journey. After I visit my prayer bench, the kids will be up and it will be time to disconnect our water hose, start our engine, and travel on.

Permission granted to share with family and friends. Copyrighted 2016. Walt Lichtenberger